Falling Down Plotholes
by ForeverRio
Summary: Tweek's certain he's going to die with Cartman as a lab partner. Pip's certain the officers who've arrested him don't have good intentions. Damien and Craig better kick it in high gear before their loved ones are scarred for life! Creek, Dip
1. Tell me when it's over

I went through this massive Creek spike and came up with numerous amounts of fanfiction ideas. This is one of them. At the moment, I only have two chapters for this story and I don't think I'll take it past that. Hurrah for two parts!

_**NOTE **_: This was originally two short drabbles, a Creek and a DamienXPip (Hmm, Dip?) But I was bored, so I combined them. They're on the same timeline. What goin' on with Pip is happening around the same time stuff's goin' on with Tweek. The first half is Craig's POV, the second Pip's. The next chapter it will rotate, the first half being from Tweek's POV the second half Damien's.

Disclaimer : Does ForeverRio own South Park? Nope. Does she want to? Yup!

HEY HEY HEY HEY LISTEN! Tell me how I did/wrote/sucked/how much you liked/think it needs work in a review!

* * *

Craig hated science class.

It wasn't the homework, Craig was used to blowing off whatever amount of homework teachers gave him. That wasn't a problem. It wasn't the teacher, though she clearly didn't take a liking to Craig. It wasn't even the people in the class, though Cartman would eventually _become_ a problem.

Maybe not a problem for Craig specifically, but a problem in general. Cartman plus deadly chemicals could not equal any good.

No. Craig's problem wasn't one of the above.

It was what this class did to Tweek.

"B-but Craig! What I-if I m-m-mix the wr-wrong chemicals! And then it explodes! The who-whole class will blow up, th-then the school and It'll be all my fault-" Said blonde twitched crazily in his seat next to Craig. His monologue would be broken every few seconds by a spastic "Ah!"

Craig waited for Tweek to spill his entire boatload of paranoia before interrupting. He'd learned the hard way that when it came to experiments, you let Tweek finish what he thought would happen. Otherwise, there was a greater chance something bad _would_ happen.

Case and point: last week Cartman had told Tweek to "Shut the hell up." in the middle of one of his paranoid speeches. Two minutes later, half the school had to evacuate because Tweek spilled poisonous fluids everywhere.

Tweek appeared to be taking a breath. Craig moved in before he could launch a second rant.

"Dude, chill." Craig glanced at the list of materials they needed. "Nothing bad will happen. I'll touch all the evil stuff and you can write the data. Okay?" Tweek gave a hesitant nod; Craig rewarded him with a smile.

He moved quickly, gathering up all the things they needed. He didn't like leaving Tweek's side in Chemistry. Not for too long. Even without doing an experiment something seemed to happen the second Craig's eyes were off Tweek.

It was annoying, aggravating, and usually left Tweek a mess.

Some chick cut in front of him. Craig flipped her off. "Back of the line, bitch." He said in his usual pissed tone. She turned around to give him a smirk.

Wrong choice.

Craig was about to do something rather nasty, but the teacher interrupted.

_Lucky for you_. Craig thought, eyeing the girl before turning to the teacher.

"Yeah." He answered.

Ms. Ruttanutt, or Mrs. Ruttanutt, Craig didn't know nor cared, glared at him. Her high voce grated on his ears. It took him a moment to get what she said.  
"Nommel, you've been partners with Tweek every experimentation we've done so far. And I'm pretty sure which one of you has been doing most the work."

Craig felt his middle finger twitch in aggravation. He held it before it acted on it's own and got him into trouble. "You accusing me of cheating?" He asked keeping his voice as calm as he could.

"No, I'm accusing you of being a lazy slob. Go partner with Lindsey, let Tweek have the partner he deserves." Ms Ruttanutt pushed her thick glasses up her nose. Looking at Craig like a regal hawk down on a mouse.

Craig's vision flashed red.

It wasn't so much that she was accusing him of being lazy. Most of the time, yeah, he was lazy. He was the first to admit it. Craig screwed off far more than any normal student. Then again this was South Park. Excluding Token, there _where_ no normal students. It was what she said about Tweek.

He doesn't deserve you. It was something a lot of people said to Craig.

You don't deserve your friends. You don't deserve your car. You don't deserve your grades.

He didn't.

He could live with that.

Tweek was another matter.

If there was one thing in this world Craig wanted, it was Tweek. He wanted the blondes hands on his. His lips caressing his neck.

He didn't deserve it though.

It killed Craig. He couldn't live without his best friend. He loved the spastic idiot to death. Craig would defend Tweek from anything and everything.

Including Craig himself.

It was why Craig never hinted he liked Tweek as "more than friends." Tweek would freak out, he would refuse, then Craig would be left in the dust. He'd long ago decided he'd rather have friendship then take the slim chance Tweek liked him back.

There was too much at stake.

He'd be the twitchy blonde's protector no matter how much it hurt inside.

Which lead him back to his current situation. If he allowed Ms. Ruttanutt too pair Tweek off with someone else it would cause the blonde to panic.

Craig hated it when he was the cause of one of Tweek's panic attacks. He always saw himself as the solution to those attacks, not the causing factor.

"Look, I'll do my work." Craig hide his hand behind his back before Ms. Rutternutt saw what his fingers were doing.

She sneered back. "I don't think so. We'll see how you do with Lindsey."

Bitch! Craig flipped her doubles, something he did only when extremely pissed.

Unfortunately, Tweek saw.

He shot a confused glance at Craig before Ms. Ruttanutt dragged Cartman away from whatever poor fly he was torturing.

She was partnering Tweek with Cartman!?

A whirlwind of rage, Craig stormed over to Lindsey. Ms. Ruttanutt wanted to see him work? Fine. He'd do the whole damn project by himself.

* * *

Pip never skipped class. A tardy never graced his record. His attendance was perfect, his grades above average. Of course with no real friends it wasn't a surprise. Pip would have had to struggle to fail, simply because he had nothing else to do but study.

Normally he'd try to call one of his friends back in England, but that ran up the phone bill. Pip hated to face it. He was lonely. Normally he refused to think about it. It was getting harder though. Ever since Estella had dumped him for another boy, Pip had been having a harder time being cheery.

He was still far more happier than most of the South Park kids, but just less of a bright, shining ball of sunshine. More of a reduced, dim-glowing one.

Today it'd just been to much. Pip didn't know what about today had made him feel so miserable, but he just couldn't face his last class. Maybe it was because today was the anniversary of Estella dumping him two months ago.

Or maybe because today was the day he'd first met Damien.

Pip still had an attachment to Damien. He refused to show it, the other boys at school had enough to tease him about. He'd rather avoid the taunting's that would come if they discovered he was pinning for another guy.

The same one that set him on fire.

Pip sighed. It hadn't mattered to him, Damien had at least acknowledge Pip's existence. He was completely overlooked by everyone else-save a few people who used him as an anger outlet.

Still wallowing in self agony over the friend he'd lost, (more like gotten ditched by) Pip turned into the local Mini-Mart. Might as well buy himself some chocolate.

As per usual, Pip's luck ran out at that precise moment. Not that the British boy ever truly had any luck. If he did, South Park had killed it. Honestly, he'd been surprised he'd made it out of school with no one noticing, but silently supposed that having a few police officers in the Mini-Mart was something he should have seen coming.

Quietly, Pip tried to turn around and sneak back out. Perhaps they hadn't noticed that a teenager was in the store when the only high school in the area was in session.

"Hey! You!"

Nope, they'd noticed.

Pip flinched but turned around with his brightest of smiles. "Who, me?" He asked innocently pointing at himself.

The officer, a fat slob of a man, nodded as he finished chewing on his doughnut. "Yeah you! What are you doing outta school?"

"Probubly thinks he can pull one over us Earl." The fat man's partner added. He was tall, frightfully so Pip noted. He already had his nightstick out, fiddling with it boredly.

"I don't wish to cause trouble!" Pip tried to desperately back peddled. "I'll go straight back to school!"

Wrong move. The tall officer looked to his fat partner. (Freakily Tallish and Fatman. Pip dubbed, though no doubt's crossed his mind that the names were unbecoming and as soon as he knew them more, he'd take them away. No harm no fowl if he didn't say it out loud, right?)

"I think we outta take this one down ta deh station." Fatman slobbered, doughnut-spittle flying everywhere. Pip made an effort not to wince.

"Thats quite alright-"

"Your right!" Freakily Tallish nodded then smiled at Pip in a way the blonde did _not_ like at all.

They moved in unison. Pip backed up until he hit the door. He was too well-mannered to run away form the police, even if his inner voice was whispering to do exactly that.

Before Pip could blink, they had him.

Within moments the British teen was shoved roughly outside then in a police car.

'_It's not fair._' Pip mentally whimpered as the engine started. '_They're car was parked out of sight!' _

Pip had no idea where the police station was located. He didn't know how long of a drive it was. Didn't know how long he was going to have to put up with the stench of week-old doughnuts and sweat. He did however, not understand what the two police officers were laughing about.

Or why they kept glancing back.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Pip was on the verge of a heart-attack. They had run every red light, cut off every car that approached, basically acted like they were chasing someone.

The light's were even flashing!

'_This can't be safe!_' Pip thought for the hundredth time. He winced as a sharp turn slammed him into the iron barred window. The blonde hadn't spoken at all, excepting sudden shrieks of terror. Had a feeling anything he said would be twisted against him.

Including the few escaped shrieks.

There! Finally the police station came into sight. Pip was never happier to see it. That had been worse then the time Cartman had roped him to the front of his ford!

And_ that _was saying something.

As the car squealed to a stop, Pip graciously waited to be let out. He expected them to open the door for him. Maybe slap on a pair of handcuffs.

He didn't expect them to drag him out by his hair.

With a painfully tight grip on his head, Pip withheld tears as he struggled to at least walk upright. Freakily Tallish dragged him through the station's doors, then past the entrance as Fatman talked to the receptionist. Pip was about to scream something along the lines of "This is manhandling!" but was flung into an empty room before he could do so.

Winded, the blonde let himself catch his breath. He was used to be mistreated. High school assured that. But by the police? _'Don't let yourself think to much on it,'_ Pip advised himself._ 'This is normal for this town._'

Which was the truth. Everything abnormal was normal in South Park. Except...

Except this didn't feel right.

Having finally recovered, Pip pulled himself up. There were no chairs in the room, only a large metal table. Just as he was considering sitting upon, it the door screeched open.

"Sirs, I can explain." Pip said while turning around. "I certainly skipped school, but I'm a first time offender. You can check my record, seriously-_eep_!"

The first half was Pip's partially prepared speech that would hopefully spring him out. The "eep" was because Freakily Tallish had slammed him against the table. Pip didn't know how -though at this point he was certainly getting why- but Freakily Tallish had managed to pin both his arms above his head. The man had an evil grin, an evil_ feel_ about him. His face was but inches away from Pip's.

Pip vaguely noticed how bad the man's breath was.

"Let me go!" Pip squirmed. Fatman had locked the door from the outside, along with all of Pip's hopes. He watched through the observation window, though the fact it was a mirror on Pip's side didn't fool the blonde at all.

His protest's grew louder as Freakily Tallish managed to juggle his flailing arms and a pair of handcuff's long enough to connect the two. Pip jerked at the handcuff's when he was momentarily let go. _'If I can pry just one of my wrists loose, I can punch him off, then run!'_ Not likely but you have to give the kid points for trying.

Not paying attention, Pip screamed when he was lifted farther up on the table. Freakily Tallish had the Brit's wrists again-Pip squirmed as much as he could. He felt Freakily Tallish try to hook the handcuff links around something. Pip did his best to make sure it didn't happen.

He was slapped for his efforts.

"Hold still you stupid piece of shit!" Freakily Tallish snapped. Stunned, Pip's face burned where he had been hit. He soon realized his handcuff links had been attached to a hook of some sort-one that left him unable to escape.

He couldn't see anything either. He was pinned on his back- the blonde's only view was that of the ceiling and the man hovering above him. Until Freakily Tallish suddenly left his vision.

Pip's breaths were fast as panic sunk it's claws in. The Brit's situation hit hard, and only got harder as he heard the undeniable sounds of cloths being removed. He was in a police station, with two people who's lives were supposed to be dedicated to protecting his, and they were both intent on raping him.

The chances of someone stopping them, especially in _this_ town, weren't high.

Pip realized this to be a surreal moment. It was something you heard about on the television, not something you ever thought you yourself would have to face. What was worse-Pip could recall an argument Kyle had with Cartman a few years ago. Pip didn't know what started it, he didn't know who ended it, but he remembered a few choose lines.

Like; "Doesn't it hurt to be screwed up the ass Kyle?"

Kyle's usual screamed reply; "No!"

Then Kenny's interruption to explain, in full detail, exactly what happened when one man had sex with the another. The bits that Pip's mind recalled all revolved around; "It only hurts if your not prepared," and "If you have a skillful partner it will only hurt a bit. Otherwise, yes, Cartman's right it does hurt to be screwed up the ass!"

Though they had laughed about it then, including Pip himself -though he didn't remember what he found to be so funny- he wasn't laughing now. The knowledge that it was going to hurt went over like acid on a wound.

Freakily Tallish popped back into view. Pip gasped-the man was naked as far as he could tell. And desperately needed to shave his chest hair.

Pip tried not to vomit as he got close. He even closed his eyes. Telling himself it was all a dream was stupid. Telling himself nothing was going to happen was worse.

Feeling Freakily Tallish's tongue on his face? That took the cake.

Pip let out a startled shriek. He moved as much as he could to try and throw Freakily Tallish off him. Including bringing his knee's into Freakily Tallish's stomach.

It succeeded in making the man angry.

As a hand came up to slap him again, Pip screamed the last thing he thought he'd ever hear come out of his mouth.

To this day, Pip can't tell if it was because he'd been thinking of the boy before the attack, or if it was because Freakily Tallish wore a gold cross around neck. Whatever the cause, Pip screamed the name loud.

"_Damien!_"

Down deep in hell, Damien heard his name around the same time Craig heard the explosion on Tweek's side of the room. Both boy's yelled the appropriate response;

"_**Shit!**_"

* * *

Bum, ba-bum-bum! R3V!3\/\/ plz!


	2. Oops doesn't cover this

This was supposed to come out two weeks ago, but Damein's character decided to be a bitch and refuse to work with me. I got seven pages down before I realized I hated it and trashed the entire thing. Sorry for it being late guys!

Special thanks to Dementis-modiste, who edited most of this for me, and Chibi-15, who reviewed the first chapter twice xD

Disclaimer : ForeverRio doesn't own South Park. She'll notify you when one of her "take over SP" plans actually work.

* * *

Green stuff was everywhere. It bubbled, popped, then started to inch down the classroom. The class stared in horror. It didn't take long to discover the room was at an incline, and thus anyone standing at the end of the classroom were the thick liquid was headed quickly moved out of the way. **Quite** a few students sat startled, with green splotches all over themselves. Others who had been hit with the concoction were madly trying to get it off in hopes whatever effect it might have wouldn't be passed to them.

All eyes were on Tweek. His twitching, thin frame was covered with it. You could barely make out his hair color. Cartman was on his back a few feet away, having been thrown back by the blast. It appeared his own body weight, plus the force he was slammed into the wall with, had knocked him out.

If this had been any other particular situation, Craig would've said the fatass had it coming.

Tweek paused at that train of thought. Any other situation? Wasn't this similar to millions of situations he'd gotten himself into? Particularly in this class? What was stopping his best friend from making a wise-ass comment, anyway? Was he burning? Was the back part of the classroom gone? Shit, had something even worse than this happened, and Tweek just couldn't see it?!

And that was how Tweek's momentarily peaceful but completely stunned mind slipped back into **its** usual pattern of thought. An irrational framework of panic.

His classmates quietly counted down. Tweek was going to explode in a few seconds. Every single one of them knew it. They recognized the signs. Tweek would start to hyperventilate-like he was now, his twitching would skyrocket until the blonde was almost vibrating in place, he would scream, then nothing short of another life-threatening danger would be able to calm him down.

Excluding Craig of course.

When Tweek's hysterics finally hit, every single one of his classmates turned to Craig. There was a series of what Tweek knew were pointed stares at his best friend. It made the blonde worse.

He was nothing but a pain to Craig. Constantly holding the other back. Or being a serious problem. Like he was doing know. But no matter what he told himself, nothing stopped his tears. Tweek wasn't strong, physically or mentally. His own inner voice could break him down just as fast as Cartman's could.

Right now it was doing exactly that. His inner voice screeched all the horrible outcomes this failed experiment was going to have on him. It grew crazier and crazier, until Tweek was damn sure something had happened to him. Even as he began to obey his voice's urges to move, he still listened, believed, as it screamed what was going to happen next.

Tweek didn't like any of the possibilities it was shouting. Not a single one was good. Or anything that even_ resembled_ good. Matter of fact it all ended with his death, immediate or slow.

The thought of death forced tears to run down his face faster. Before Tweek realized what he was doing, he was convulsing on the ground.

'The liquid!' Screamed his helpful inner voice. 'Get out of the liquid!' Realizing what it was talking about, Tweek stopped long enough to get a good look around him. He was in the center of what could be described as an ocean of green liquid! The stuff was all over him, it was going to begin to burn him at any given notice. It would eat him. Engulf him!

In actuality the liquid was a simple, harmless mixture. It was no bigger than a puddle. A rather small puddle.

Not that that stopped Tweek's mind, but it helped him look like an idiot. Spazzing, the blonde leapt to his feet. He scrambled forward, succeeding in making his limbs go in every direction but the one he wanted them to go.

The moment could only be described as comical when Tweek finally got himself together. He shot forward, his front foot slide in the goo, and he fell right back down onto his back.

Tweek held the mental vision of a flipped turtle for a moment. He rolled, fast, ending up with a mouthful of green stuff. Throat convulsing, Tweek was stuck on his arms and knees as he started coughing.

Strong arms snuck around his waist. Tweek was gently lifted backwards. Out of the range of the green puddle. Though his whole body was shaking from his coughs, the arms maintained a firm grip. Against his will his body slumped against the stomach of whoever pulled him out.

'_Whoever?'_ His dreaded inner voice scoffed as it took a slight break from panicking. '_It's the same guy who always pulls your ass out of problems. Craig.' _It was one thing Tweek knew to be true. Craig was always endangering himself to save him. It only made the blonde feel worse.

Dead weight. That's what he heard people in the halls calling him. It's what he was.

What he always would be.

The coughs had finally stopped. They left Tweek breathing hard.

"Are you alright?" A soft voice tickled his ear.

The blonde didn't respond. He couldn't, he didn't know the answer. Was he alright? He wasn't acting like it. Then, did he ever act like he was alright?

"That freak better not be." Cartman, as usual, had nailed then voiced Tweek's exact thoughts. The fatass was finally getting to his feet. After no one had responded to his little show of groaning while rubbing his head, he finally decided the floor was not the most comfortable of places.

Craig was quick to defend him. "Tweek is not a freak, fatass. If anything, _you're_ the only freak this school has to showcase!"

Tears still ran down Tweek's cheeks. Great. Not only had Craig endangered his life to pull him out of a swamp of unknown and most likely fatal liquid, he was now going up against Cartman in his defense!

Not wanting his friend to get hurt, Tweek said; "It's alright." He meant for it to come out loud, clear. Instead his irritated throat forced his voice into a soft whisper.

Craig still heard it. He had to, Tweek was practically in his lap!

Wait. He was, wasn't he? In Craig's lap. Tweek's eyes bulged. A new string of coughs came out, leaping at Tweek's sudden weakness.

"No it's not alright." Craig snarled-snarled!-as he softly rubbed Tweek's back. "I mean it**,** Cartman." Craig's other hand came into view as it inched over Tweek's shoulder to flip the fatass off.

Said teen was finally on his feet. Cartman was secretly happy no one jokingly called in a forklift again. One prank like that was enough for a lifetime. From his newly risen position, however, he could clearly view Tweek and Craig.

He couldn't point it out fast enough. "What Craig? Are you mad I insulted your screw-toy?" Cartman smirked as he watched both the teens go rigid. "Oohhh did I hit a soft-spot? I'm sorry, do you two prefer the term "friends with benefits?" Cartman made the quotation with hand movements.

He was delighted when Tweek went bright red. Even more so when Craig started to look like he was going to burst a blood vessel.

Tweek managed a loud stuttered "N-no th-thats sick!" At the same time Craig yelled "I'm fucking straight and you know it!"

Cartman outright laughed when they both faced each other in surprise. "De-ni-al" He sang lazily.

Kenny pinched the bridge of his nose from the back of the class. While everyone had been watching the fight, Kenny had been paying close attention to Craig and Tweek. Or more specifically, their facial expressions. Reading people was something Kenny was astounding at. Right now however, he almost wished he didn't have the talent.

Tweek's tears were coming faster now that the blonde was positive his crush was straight. And Craig was getting pissier-if that was even possible-with the knowledge his crush thought kissing him would be disgusting.

"Dammit Cartman." Kenny muttered. "How the hell am I supposed to subtly hint them over _this_ roadblock?" Tacking a mental note in his head to slaughter the fatass later, Kenny snuck around to the door. Ms. Ruttanutt was just outside, talking heatedly with Poison Control.

For the seventh time in the past month.

With the stealth of a cat, Kenny threw a rather thick text book at his teachers head, then shot back to his seat.

He heard more than saw his teacher hang up on Poison control. "I have a class to teach, get over here now!" was screeched loud enough for the entire school to **hear**, after the initial "Dammit**,**_** ow**__!_" had slipped out. And people thought carrying around textbooks was a pain...

Storming into the classroom, she took one long, inventory-like sweep of her class before barking orders. "Lindsey, get paper towels! Butters**,** go run and get the janitor. Get all the janitors! Everyone else, back of the class, now! Craig." Ms. Ruttanutt loomed behind them as she strutted up.

Tweek automatically buried himself further in Craig. Then cursed himself for being a coward and tried to subtly un-**bury** himself.

"Go take Tweek to the bathroom and try to get all that shit off. Use the gym's, it has showers." Tweek almost didn't catch the following "Thank **G**od."

"Cartman, anyone else that was sprayed with this, go use the bathroom down the hall. I want you all to stay in **there** until Poison Control gets here. I don't know what you two managed to blow up, but if it causes another outbreak of diarrhea I swear I'm failing you both for the entire year!"

Cartman huffed but moved out of the classroom. Everyone who had been hit with the goo happily followed him, eager to get it off.

Craig pulled himself and Tweek to their feet. He waited a moment for Tweek to get stable before hauling the blonde down the other direction to the boy's bathroom.

Neither of them said anything. Neither **paid** any attention to the weird looks they got.

After going down two floors-with one more floor to go-Tweek finally managed to squeak. "C-Craig**,** you can let go of m-my hand no-now."

Craig dropped it immediately. He refused to look at Tweek for the rest of the way. He figured the blonde was startled enough as it was, he didn't need to scare him further when he noticed Craig's red face.

Tweek rubbed his hand. He had almost forgotten he was covered in possibly dangerous chemicals. His mind was to busy struggling with the fact that Craig was straight. Straight, as in, Tweek definitely didn't have a chance.

Like he had one to begin with. Tweek snorted. He realized he'd done it out loud.

Great. Now Craig was going to think he was even more unstable then he previously thought.

The arrival at the bathroom, which was actually a locker-room with a toilet and a set of showers, almost caused relief. The awkward silence was beginning to get to Tweek. He hated awkward silences. They, like everything else in life, scared him.

Craig was hauling ass to the showers**;** Tweek had to jog a few paces to keep up. Upon reaching it, Craig turned the nearest shower on, stepping under the fall of water without bothering to adjust the temperature.

Tweek was much more of a pansy. He gently turned the shower opposite from Craig on, then tested it until it was the perfect temperature.

Both boys had their **clothes** on. They were going to have to wash them anyways. Might as well do it while they were still on their bodies.

Except**,** of course, it came to the time when both figured out something important.

Like all liquid, thick or not, the green stuff had managed to get into places that were _not_ washable with **clothes** on.

Tweek's mind began an inner battle, one side arguing everything bad that could happen if he stripped in front of Craig, the other arguing what could happen if he didn't, instead let the goo stay on.

So far, neither was winning.

Craig was in the midst of his own mental debate. It was the same, only he was thinking about it with a rational train of thought.

After feeling a particularly large bit of the goo slide down his butt, Craig finally decided that accidently getting a boner was worth getting the shit off.

Getting his shirt off was easy. His pants were a bit harder. The material was clinging stubbornly to his legs. Grumbling**,** Craig tried to wiggle out of them.

Tweek noticed what his crush was doing a moment to late. "C-Craig!" He yelped, throwing a hand over his eyes.

Craig, who had one leg out of his boxer's/pants and the other in, raised his head. Staring at Tweek in a slightly annoyed fashion -_almost had them off, dammit!_- Craig dead-panned; "What."

Tweek used his other shaking hand to point in what he hoped was Craig's general direction.

Catching the other's meaning**,** Craig winced. Then rolled his eyes to cover his wince. "We're both boys**,** Tweek." He said. He tried to keep the emotion out of his voice as he added; "Besides**,** we don't go for boys." _We meaning you_, he added silently. Telling himself to knock it off, Craig went back to squirming out of his jeans.

Tweek winced at Craig's words. He hoped the other thought it was just a normal twitch. Slowly, the blonde lowered his hand. He stared determinedly at the floor as he began to remove his own top.

Within seconds Tweek encountered the same problem Craig had. After a few moments of tugging, he tried to imitate his crush's wiggling.

Two minutes later, Tweek was doing what could only be described as the combination of river dancing and a drunk guy. Madly**,** he pulled at his jeans. The stubborn things wouldn't come off!

In frustration, Tweek glanced up at Craig. The latter was red in the face from with-holding laughter.

'_Craig could get his pants off.' _His inner voice supplied snidely. _'Why can't you, you pathetic twit!?' _

As Tweek wiggled harder, Craig couldn't stop himself. He burst out laughing. Tweek made an annoyed sound, putting even more effort into it.

Craig bent double. This was just too hilarious! It would have been the perfect blackmail material**, too**. Made him wish he had a camera phone even more than usual. '_Who would have thought I'd get to witness Tweek doing a crazy dance,'_ Craig started as his laughter died off, '_in an attempt to get his pants off in a shower. And I was thinking of skipping today!'_ The thought brought a smile to his face.

Then it took a new direction.

'_This ones going to be fun to explain. Yeah__**,**__ Tweek was doing this little jig that was actually pretty hot, without a shirt on.'_ Craig's watched his crush spin in frustration. _'Under water.'_ Craig started a bit more. _'In a shower.'_ Craig's eyes slowly got wider. _'Where I'm naked._'

There was a five second delay before his thoughts connected with his body. Craig spun around, thinking desperately of things along the line of dead puppies. _'Cold water dammit!'_ He thought frantically, _'Turn it back to cold!'_

It took ten minutes for Craig to feel safe enough to turn back around.

He was amused to discover Tweek still had his pants on.

Tweek's fingers **slid** away from his jeans for the sixtieth time. The blonde twitched, a frustrated "Ack!" springing forth. Why was this so difficult for him?! He looked up then noticed Craig was still watching.

Tweek blushed red. He attempted to cover it up by making a face at Craig.

Craig stifled what he knew was a girly giggle. Tuckers did _not_ giggle. "Need help?" He asked, one eyebrow raised with his usual smirk back in **its** rightful place.

Tweek bit his lip. This was embarrassing, but it wasn't like Craig hadn't done it before. He always had trouble, with buttons especially, and this one was _wet. _It made everything impossible!

Well shit. He was either going to be stuck here forever trying to get his pants off, or he could let Craig take them off. He just hoped the other would do it fast.

Accepting the inevitable, Tweek nodded hesitantly.

Craig was in front of him in a flash.

Tweek made a huge effort to keep his eyes looking straight ahead. Craig knelt before him, Tweek bit his lip harder. Gently, Craig pried at the slick material. Within moments, he was frowning.

Damn, this button was _stuck! _

Craig gave it a few hard tugs. He wasn't satisfied until he heard a soft 'Pop!' and the button finally relinquished **its** position. His smirk returned in victory.

His hands moved to the top of Tweek's jeans. He began to softly tug the material down the twitchy blonde's legs.

A hand stopped him, forcing him to look up in surprise.

Tweek wasn't meeting his gaze, instead focusing on a spot off to the right. He was chewing on his lip, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. Craig reigned himself in hard before he could even process how cute his best friend looked.

"C-**C**raig." Tweek started, his voice higher than usual.

Craig's eyebrow went up for the second time. "Yeah?"

Tweek added pressure onto his lip. He was screwed. He hadn't intended this to happen, yet he knew it was going to. It was just a matter of now admitting it to Craig. His crush hadn't said anything yet, but he was going to. Tweek had to beat him to the punch. It was this or let everything spiral out of control.

Gathering up his non-existent courage for the first time in his life, Tweek said; "St-top. You're, you're, just stop." He paused, **and** continued as he felt Craig's eyes glance back down. "I, I was lying earlier, al-alright? I, I, like," _You_. "Guys."

Craig had been staring startled at the bulge in Tweek's pants before a massive grin split his face. He flung himself to his feet, filled with relief and excitement.

Tweek still refused to meet his gaze, instead muttering an unsteady "I'm so sorry." He started to repeat himself after Craig didn't respond, but was cut off.

Without any warning, the caffeine addict found himself against the shower-wall, being kissed and fondled heatedly. Craig's fingers were roaming just as much as his tongue was. The blonde was too startled to respond.

He clung desperately to the wall when Craig finally surfaced for air. Tweek stared, amazed. Craig returned it with a crazy grin.

"Good." Craig panted. "'Cause I was lying **too**."

Tweek was floored for all of a second before launching himself into Craig's arms.

Both **boys** didn't reemerge from the bathroom for another hour. When they finally did, they were greeted with a snickering Kenny, who was promptly thrown into the toilet via Craig.

As **the** duo exited the locker room, Craig snuck his arm around his twittering blonde. They were spotted holding hands for the rest of the week.

* * *

Damien, under pain of death, would never admit to what started his darkest hobby. It was one of those things in hell that you just didn't shed light on. A painful thing, for both the discoverer and the guilty party.

His father called it "healthy."

But Damien knew. He'd taken something usual, then brought it to an insane plane. A disgusting, disturbing level. One he hated to learn that he had, simply because it could be viewed as a possible weakness.

Yet his father persisted.

Not matter how they viewed it, it held the same name.

Pip Watching.

And Kenny was the cause of it all.

Damien couldn't help but curse the blonde. He would've put a permanent end to his hooded existence if he wasn't his only connection to the outside world. Kenny was his best minion, simply because the blonde provided entertainment as well as a numerous amounts of useful information.

The bitch also knew all about Damien's dirty little secret.

In retrospective, he should. Damien didn't doubt that the blonde manipulated him into it. Kenny certainly knew the verbal trinket he held would send the prince running to Hell's nearest Earth-spyglass.

The sad part was that Damien had fallen for it.

'_Pip likes you, you know. Seems ta' be under the impression you're the love of his life.' _Kenny said it with a smile on his face. Sparks in his eyes.

Even now, just thinking about it, could force the existence of unwanted feelings.

The minute it had been said, those two golden sentences, his heart had decided to stop it's exile and come screaming into Damien's life, without warning.

'_Warning. A warning would have been nice.'_

But there wasn't one.

There never is.

Dead set on proving Kenny (and his unwanted heart) wrong, Damien had stormed over to a spyglass to disprove the accusation. (Itwasan accusation! Shut _up_, heart!) Except...

Except he couldn't. Pip never mentioned anything about Damien. Ever.

Pip didn't mention much of anything.

Mostly because he had no one to talk to.

The blonde's treatment hadn't bothered Damien at first. He was Hell's crown prince, he'd witnessed worse things than harassment. Not to mention, it'd been a few years. Damien didn't hadn't bothered with Earth for a while.

Ruling a portion of Hell held his attention more than anything else did back then.

Then a simple way to disprove his minion's statement, it slowly turned into an obsession. Damien found himself in front of the spyglass more and more. The sad part? Pip certainly didn't lead an interesting life.

School. Harassment. Home. Excluding gardening or the random trips to the library, Pip's life revolved around those three factors.

But it was peaceful. So damn peaceful.

Looking back, maybe that's what drew him in. The peacefulness Pip held. Inner peace, outer peace, the Brit could have been a poster boy for a Disney movie. Even with the humiliation he faced, everyday.

Secretly, Damien wanted that.

It was such an odd desire, especially for one of his nature, he hide it from _himself_ for a while. When he finally came around to admittance, that yes, he, the crown prince of Hell, wanted peace of all things, he immediately set about it's destruction.

The thought was a weakness. Weakness was something that never dared to touch Damien. Never.

So he did the one thing he could to regain control of his life. Control he knew he didn't have when he watched Pip Pirrup.

He halted all Pip-watching exercises.

His heart through a hissy fit, but Damien was planning on squishing it anyway. It had hurt, it had unintentionally become a part of him. For the first few weeks Damien kept finding himself in front of the spyglass out of habit.

But he could force it out of him. There was nothing Pip could see in him now.

Did he even_ want_ Pip to see something in him?

It was another question Damien had pondered. One that, even after a few years of asking himself, over and over, he couldn't understand.

Yes. Hell was lonely. At least, he was lonely. His position left no room for friends. Only minions.

His heart had come raging back.

This time it had protest signs.

Which lead the dark prince to identify his second weakness.

Yup, he may actually have feelings to return to Pip.

Ten years late, but feelings all the same. On a level a little bit higher then what Pip had originally offered.

Maybe that was why, when he heard an echo of his name, that he responded. Maybe that was why he acted out, shooting to the defense of someone he hadn't confronted in nearly ten years.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Now he would find out.

* * *

To this day Damien will never admit what his first thought was when he saw Pip. The Brit was strapped nearly naked to a table, with a similarly nearly naked man almost on top of him. It was a rather hard thing to miss.

But Damien was Hell's only prince.. He was used to fine everything. With his father's sexual preference being well-known, random fashion rants were something he was well aquatinted with. Which, was entirely responsible, for the thought_; 'If my father ever saw _that_ color of grey with that wall's dark green lining, he'd throw a shit fit. Honestly I can't blame him it looks horrible.' _Tilting his head one way, Damien silently added,_ 'What's his word for this kind of thing? Ah, right. A fashion train interbred with the manure train to create the shit-faced-fashion-wreck-train." _

If the interior design of the place wasn't enough, Damien turned to face the worst shock of his life. The thing he should have noticed right off the bat.

The person he may or may not hold feelings with was being assaulted, by a man not worthy of his father's least favorite minion's grace. Automatically, Damien knew he'd meet this man again. At the moment he had only gained himself a small cell in Hell. Nothing he had done was enough to get him anything but the usual amounts of torture.

But now...

But now he was on top of something Damien secretly considered to be scared. His place in Hell suddenly rose to a rather high spot on the prince's 'to torture for eternity' list.

Pip's mouth opened once more, but not a sound came out. He' d finally seen Damien.

Staring into the Brit's terrified eyes, Damien realized Kenny had been right.

All along, the blonde had been right.

But when had Kenny ever been wrong?

Cursing himself, both for letting this drag on far longer than it should while letting Pip suffer at the hands of a monster who had no idea a demon was behind him, Damien stepped in.

Well, didn't step in so much as he threw a knife at the man's head.

Then followed up with a fireball to a nearly exposed- crotch.

The knife missed-it sailed past the man's ear into the wall.

The fireball hit home.

"_Shit!"_

Damien didn't pause. Neither did he give an introduction-to fire-crotch, or Pip. Pip knew who he was.

Damien didn't bother to entertain the idea the blonde didn't.

Without even considering moving at human speeds, Damien had lifted, then thrown Pip's would-be-rapist into the wall several times before the man realized the prince had moved.

When his last throw sent the skinny man through the mirror, he realized there was another, fatter, man behind it. The later smashed into the former. Shards of glass framed their collision.

Damien's inner voice whispered. He frowned. It was right, the fatter man could have called for help.

That left him little time to fulfil the proper slow, agonizing, death that both of them deserved. Damien felt his face shift into a much angrier position.

If backup was coming, he didn't have many choices. He could very well disappear with Pip. It would be as simple as a snap of his fingers. However, that meant the rapists before him would survive until morning. Morning being when Damien would come bringing their execution.

It left them an opening though. A small, slim opening. They could form a false story, then tell this Police Station's Captain of it.

Damien would rather Pip stayed free then come under an investigation from the police. Particularly when he was plotting the murder of the two officers involved.

He had another option of course. He could quickly, if not sloppily, finish off the two officers. If he was smart, he could kill any and all evidence while he did it, too. It would require a rather flashy show of his powers.

Inhuman powers plus earth never added up to Damien's favor. Not to mention the fact his father always threw a shit-fit when he pulled anything spectacular in the power department.

So, only one question remained. Was it worth it?

Damien knew just how to get his answer.

"Pip."

His reaction was a startled flick of the head. Pip's gaze had been watching the shattered mirror with surprise and shock. He focused however, his attention suddenly rapt on Damien. The prince could practically see his mind working to try and recover what Damien had just said..

"Y-yes?"The Brit finally responded.

Damien tried not to smile. Damn did he love that accent. The boy may have gotten (was probubly still getting) the shit beaten out of him for it, but it was amusing, as well as rather melodic.

He'd send himself to Heaven's gates and beg to be let in before he admitted that fun fact aloud.

"Kenny is rather positive you like me. Is it true?"

Damien could have sworn Pip's eyes popped for a moment. Surely it wasn't possible for someone's eyes to get that big without them popping!

"Wh-what!?" He squeaked, jerking on his bonds.

Damien leveled a deadpan stare. "Kenny. Said. You. Like. Me. Is it true?" He restated, with emphasis in-between each word.

"Does that matter?" Pip was obviously distraught. He had been before, Damien noted, but that was a different kind of panic. It was obviously mental panic now, as Pip hadn't been trying to hide his panic when he'd been getting raped.

'_Almost raped.'_ Damien corrected harshly in his mind. Out loud, he said boredly; "Yup."

Pip blushed deep red. "Yes Damien." He mumbled, as his face darted away.

Damien waited a moment. When Pip didn't continue, he prodded. "Yes what?"

Still refusing to look at hm, Pip said, in a louder voice, "I like you."

A perfect black eyebrow rose. "Like? Specifics Pip. I need specifics."

The Brit's head snapped back around. His face met Damien's, his eyes burning. "I love you Damien, alright! Is that what you wished to hear? I. Love. You!" Pip honestly looked about to burst into tears-Damien couldn't blame him. He had been attacked, nearly raped, demanded to tell his personal feelings, _and _he wasn't a highly trained prince with supernatural powers.

Anyone in his position would have broken down a while ago.

"What does telling you that _do_, pray tell!"

Damien felt his lips twitch into a foreign area. Up. "Everything." He answered, the smile cracking his serious face.

A flash- he was beside Pip in an instant. The blonde squeaked, but Damien was too intrigued by the skin revealed to him. One hand came up past Pip's head, the other behind his own back, his lips down onto his blondes.

_His. _

'_Mine.'_

Pip started, but went rigid as Damien gently kissed his lips. The prince's hand waved over Pip's bonds. He snapped his fingers above them, they burst into flame. Damien stroked Pip's wrists as they were freed, making sure his fire hadn't burned.

His snapped his fingers behind him only a second later. An ark of fire flicked out, at first doing nothing but making an impressive pyro-show.

Then the entire back half of the police station blew sky-high. Fire reared to touch the sun, while what remained of the walls rained down.

Damien let up. As Pip slowly came up, he scanned his blonde for any damage.

There wasn't much, but enough bruising to piss him off for a long time.

When a disgusted look was sent in the direction of the remains of the two rapists, Pip shivered. Damien's attention snapped right back.

""Damien what if someone se-sees?" Pip asked, his teeth starting to uncontrollably flick against each other.

Huh. His blonde was still basically naked. That wasn't going to fly.

Another flash. Pip didn't yelp this time, but winced when he was forced onto back again. Damien however, didn't plan on keeping his Brit in the position for long. Instead, he moved his head to Pip's hipbone. Starting from it, he butterfly kissed his way up to Pip's neck. His finally was made on Pip's lips.

Everywhere the prince's lips touched, cloths formed. Pip soon found himself in a near perfect rendition of what he had been previously wearing. This time, he ended the kiss.

"That's amazing!" He whispered pulling away to eye his arm.

Damien shrugged. "Not that impressive. Launching that fatass from the window though? Priceless. Did you see his face?" Matter of fact Damien hadn't, nor had he any idea that the fat guy really had been launched into the sky. He could take a good guess though.

It wouldn't have been the first time.

"No, I didn't." Pip said, quickly covering for the high squeaky voice that he'd started in.

Good. Easier for Damien to lie.

"Well you know what they say." He drawled. "With fat people, there are no teeter-totters, only catapults."

Pip was having trouble comprehending all of this. So much trouble, in fact, he promptly ignored the facts, (Damien appearing out of no where to save him from would-be-rapist's in a police station, beating an adult officer up before throwing him through a bullet proof mirror, blowing up half the police station itself, then kissing him.) And instead latched onto something a little more plausible (Damien just insulted an overweight person.)

"Damien! That's rude!"

In response, Damien shot an "Are you crazy?" Sort of look.

* * *

An hour or so later, Pip was shakily making tea at his apartment. Damien eyed him lazily, enjoying his position on the couch.

It was a nice, small apartment in a quieter part of town. The very type of thing you would suspect Pip would live in. As an added bonus, all the furniture matched the walls.

Damien had started off by swinging Pip heroically into his arms, then not-so-heroically laughing as he found the skinner rapists skull. Pip had made the most disapproving noise Damien had ever heard in his life, however, which shut the prince up rather quickly.

He certainly wasn't stupid enough to know Pip hadn't left his after-glow. The love of his life had shown up, saved him, then pretty much proclaimed he loved him back. It was all a little to much like a fantasy movie. Or so Damien guessed that was what was going on in the Brits head. Pip was so feminine it could get scary at times.

Then again his blonde could just be in shock, but where's the "romance" in that?

Not that Damien really knew anything about romance. Those were his father's type of movies, and his father rarely invited him to go movie-watching with him. That was his latest boyfriends job, not Damien's.

But Damien was opting for the ending the fantasy movies never showed.

Sex in bed.

Preferably back in his castle. Where Pip would remain as his property.

Forever.

Damien winced as he realized what his train of thought had lead him to. Was this_ really_ what he'd been reduced to? In the space of an hour, Pip had managed to turn Damien's typical teenage hormone-overloaded attraction into a fantasy typical of twelve year old girls.

He might have felt obligated to help the Brit, though he didn't know why, he was Satan's _son_ dammit! But staying with him at his house?

This was going past pathetic.

And Damien refused to think he was going soft.

He'd better come up with an excuse for this. Fast to, otherwise his heart might to try to upstart his control.

Damien did_ not _lose control.

His emotions were tight-lidded and sealed, with the only exceptions being anger and lust. All the better, to toy with, emotions could be used as weapons. The easiest way to win a fight was to get your opponent to take themselves out. Emotionally, physically, it all could destroy a person.

It was beautiful, the way humans could do that to themselves. Lead them on long enough, they really initiate their own death.

Pip however...

Pip wasn't your typical human. No one was supposed to be capable of pulling off of being_ happy _in a shitty situation. Pip did it on a day to day basis. Damien knew enough to know his blonde wasn't faking his happiness either. It was a mystery, one he was dying to solve. Little quirks of the mind...It wasn't something you ran across that often in humans but Damien really wanted to see what made Pip act like he did.

He certainly couldn't blame that part of his attraction to the blonde on his hormones.

The worst part off the situation was, he knew Pip had strong feelings for him.

He could tell everyone he was just screwing around. Leading the Brit on, like he had lead several girls on. Done it for the pleasure of knowing you were fucking someone over. Screwing with them, mentally, physically, it was a feeling that made life grander, if just for a moment.

The idea of doing that to Pip though, it, did it really?

Yes. It actually made him _sick._

There were other contributing factors to Damien's growing self-concern. Like; how the_** hell**_ had Pip maintained a crush on him, of all people for ten fucking years! He was a reincarnation of evil!

Ten years. Ten years. The words whirled about inside his head. It was a huge gap. So he may have been spying on Pip for eight or so of those ten. Spying wasn't talking was it?

It wasn't contact.

It was much more like _Tivo_ than anything else.

Damien found himself fighting again. Mentally. Himself against himself. The place were no matter what he did or said, he never won.

One can only take so much of that. When Pip finally ventured over, offering a shaking cup of tea to Damien, he made a decision.

To hell with consequences!

Accepting the tea, Damien nearly threw it on the coffee table. He snatched Pip's tea out of his hands as well, no use getting it spilled on the carpet.

Pip looked at him quizzically. Damien quirked what he hoped was a smile back.

Snaking his arms around the blonde, Damien tugged. Pip flopped into him, forcing him back down onto the couch. Pip let out a loud "Umph!"while squirming, but Damien held on.

"So." He said it casually, like they were simply passing each other in a hallway. "You have somehow convinced yourself you love me. I somewhat find you attractive. Want to have sex in the shower or in bed?"

His reward was a massive flush of red. Damien made a mental note to say more crude things in the future, Pip looked damn cute when he blushed.

"Damien!"

The way he said his name when he was angry was hot too.

"On the floor then?"

Pip was still on his him, but was struggling to get up. With his palms flat on Damien's chest, the prince almost wanted to piss the blonde off further. To his disappointment he couldn't do it.

Pip's face was close. So close in fact, that when Damien exhaled, Pip's hat flew off.

It forced his hair to fall in his eyes, down his neck.

'_Who knew?'_ Damien thought, eyeing a golden strand as the light hit it just right. _'He looks even better when his hair's down.'_

Uh-oh. He'd said something. Time for a smooth recovery.

"Sorry, didn't catch that, I was eyeing your ass. Not to bad, a bit on the small side."

Ah yes. Damien, the definition of smooth.

The snarl that landed itself on Pip's face was enough for Damien to raise his guards. Pip was completely helpless, a total wimp, but Damien would rather keep the skin on his face. The blonde probubly had the nails most chicks did. Bet he knew how to use 'em to.

"I am not one of your call girls." Pip snapped.

Crap. What happened to after-glow?!

"Nope." Damien agreed. "You definitely aren't."

That somehow seemed to further piss the Brit off. Damien paused innerly, hadn't he just told Pip what the he wanted to hear?

"I am also not one of your random screws!" Pip resumed struggling to get off Damien's chest.

It was a sad attempt. Damien wasn't even trying, but Pip was barely raising a few inches.

"And again, no, your not."

Pip pounded a fist into Damien's side in frustration. " And I am _definitely_ not some stupid bitch you think you can screw because you happened to show up to play hero to my damsel in distress! I appreciate the save Damien, I really do, but if your going to use my attraction to you to get sex, you can get out of my house. Right now."

Whoa! Damien had to clamp down on himself hard to keep the surprise out of his face. How had _that _happened?! Alright so he was being an asshole, but he was always an asshole!

If this had been anyone else, Damien would have flipped them off, blown them up, or at the very least walked out the door with a smile and an insult.

Except he realized he couldn't move. Of all the things he'd discovered about himself today, the one that came to him now left him nearly dead on the couch.

The idea of walking out that door, out of Pip's life, _hurt. _

"Pip."

"I meant it Damien!"

"Shut up and listen." Damien didn't know if that was going to work while Pip was pissed, so he didn't leave an opening for the Brit to interrupt. "I," a pause. Was he really going to say this? "I didn't mean, that." It was shaky, but it was a start. "What I said."

Pip seemed to bite. He crossed his arms on Damien's chest angrily.

Well, if he was venturing this far, he might as well just throw the whole damn act out the window. "I've been watching you."

Pip's eyebrow rose.

Damien felt a random bubble of excitement, this next bit was going to blow his Brit away. "Almost everyday. For eight years."

Ah yes, there it was. Pip's mouth popped open. His face looked similar to that of a fish. A large, dying fish.

"W-why?" He managed.

Damien shrugged. "No fucking clue. I thought it was just hormones."

"You thought?" He had to give Pip props, for being in shock the guy was fast.

A nod for an answer.

Pip took a deep breath. "You mean, you don't think so now?"

"Since I'm obviously still here," Damien snorted, "Then I guess not. I would have simply fucked you then dumped you in a ditch if it were hormones." Oh shit, he was going back into Pip's danger zone. Quick, recover! "But since I haven't, I guess..." Damien floundered for words. The only ones that came to mind were thoughts he'd rather keep private. Somehow, his mouth opened anyway, against his will. "I guess I like you back."

"Like." Pip's voice had an odd tone to it, but Damien couldn't pin-point it. It could've been a tip off to the blonde's mood, how he was taking this, but it could also just be that his arm muffled his speech. Damn.

"I can't promise you love, Pip." Damien was talking softly. He didn't even know he knew how to talk softly! Hell, he didn't know he possessed an "inside" voice! "Just like I can't promise you that you won't get hurt. I can promise that I'll try. That's the best I can do, because I don't know what I feel. " He didn't. It was the truth, which was odd for Damien. He wasn't used to speaking the truth.

Pip had stopped struggling somewhere through the middle of his speech. He looked at Damien oddly now. Like he was trying to piece together a puzzle.

The prince fought to keep from fidgeting.

Silence.

Just when he was about to uptake a rifle and hunt his heart down for the shit it was pulling him through, Pip smiled.

Smiled, leaned foreword an inch, and placed a kiss. Right on the bridge on Damien's nose.

"That's the most I can ask from you, Damien."

Pip's response, Pip's actions, was enough for Damien to cap his gun, and grudgingly, grudgingly! Admit it might be alright for his heart to take over in the future.

It hadn't killed him thus far. Maybe it could pilot better than Damien thought it could. Maybe. Guess he would have to take another chance to find out.

Reviews are nice : D


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